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Well, i made a template and using sprites, I fill them in, add some touch ups. except the rotom one, i made that from scratch (though i used the template XD)

OKAY! well, i gotta edit a lot now d;

Zorya Solistum is accepted!
She will receive five pins on arrival:

000 The Player Pin - Proof that you are a player in the Reaper's Game. Pressing it lets you hear the thought fragments of those around you in the RG.041 Zubat - The Bat Monster. Using this pin sucks health from your enemies and adds a little to your own.046 Paras - The Mushroom Monster. Using this pin paralyses, poisons or puts your enemies to sleep for a short amount of time.074 Geodude - The Rock Monster. Using this pin summons a barrage of rocks to force on your enemies.081 Magnemite - The Magnet Monster. Using this pin allows you to draw enemies towards you.

Uhh, never got a response on his psyche so not sure what to do with that, but let me know.... ^^;;

Name: Arron HaleAge: 18Gender: MaleEntry Fee: All sensation from the waist down, resulting in a complete inability to walk/run and move freely. The loss of his legs represents that he can't continue his journey, Arron's escape from his dreaded family. He is, in a sense "trapped" again in immobility, much like how he couldn't escape his family's reputation in the past.

Appearance: With platinum blonde hair and crisp lime green eyes, Arron would be quite the blindingly bright sight if not for his slightly tanned skin. Certainly nowhere near as dark as the sunkissed beach look of the inhabitants of Dewford Town, Arron’s complexion is merely a product of being outdoors without proper sun protection for long periods of time. His luck comes in the fact that despite the brutality with which he treats his skin, it’s still miraculously smooth- though the blonde boy would be the first to tell you that he’s going to become a wrinkly prune as soon as the sun catches up with him. Which is just fine with him—it’d match his constantly grumpy expression, thin brows constantly knit together in disapproval. Standing at 6’, Arron’s gangly appearance is riddled with lean muscle from lots of cardiovascular exercise in the form of travelling, travelling, and more travelling.

Appearance, in the sense of his overall visual impression, is of the utmost importance to him. His hair is always meticulously styled—bangs swept across his eyes and flipped out at the ends. His clothes, always fashionable, but also practical. Normally without much chance to change on his journey, Arron’s primary staple is a thin white windbreaker with red sleeves and pockets, always worn on top of a white or black t-shirt depending on whichever happens to be the more clean of the two. Due to the moderate temperature of most of Kanto’s locations, Arron usually keeps his jacket’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing a white sporting watch around Arron’s right wrist and a lime green sweatband on his left. Once again, depending on the weather, Arron dons either a pair of slim-fitting black slacks or capris on his legs to put off the bright colors. His red and black hi-tops are quite worn, but still retain their shine, indicating that they’re not so much old as they are overused. His black socks are pushed down around the ankle, as folding is “frickin’ old-fashioned”, and low-cut socks “fall off all the damn time”.

Personality: With an attitude as sharp as the glare constantly plastered across his face, Arron is the king of sarcasm and disdain. Seemingly nothing can please or impress him, and he tends to grate on everyone’s nerves just by opening his mouth. His confrontational nature makes it hard for him to make friends, and even harder for him to keep friends. As though constantly on the defense, Arron often unconsciously attacks people, poking holes in the conversation until it just falls apart entirely. With a severe case of word vomit, Arron often doesn’t know where to draw the line in his harsh words and criticisms, and often flies off the handle in a flurry of heated emotion. Impressively, a guy like Arron does still manage to make friends, however. If anyone manages to get past his thorny exterior, he becomes considerably less rude, replacing all the stand-offish mannerisms with a genuine concern for your well-being. As a true friend, Arron’s loyalty has no limits, and his trust is almost endless. But before that stage, Arron is just what people describe him to be: A jerk.

Surprisingly enough, his extremely criticism for others doesn’t stem for insecurity, or anything that most bullies like him tend to get their source of contempt from. Rather, it comes from an extreme need to succeed and accomplish things that he loads onto himself as well. In Arron’s eyes, if he can excel at something, so should everyone else. And just the same, if someone else can excel at something, so should he. A hard worker who would never give up in the face of defeat, Arron’s stubbornness can be viewed positively as relentless determination. He’s the first to drag someone back onto their feet if they feel hopeless, though oftentimes he does this without considering their feelings, or whether or not they actually want to stand back up. But to Arron, giving up is the lowest of low. Not to mention he’s an extremely sore loser, so “giving up” is already out of the question anyway. Crying and showing weaknesses—all of these fall under the category of things Arron never allows himself to do, because he feels that in a sense, these are also losses in themselves.

After the loss of his legs however, Arron’s confidence has been twisted into a sense of insecurity. Unsure of how others view him as a handicap, particularly in this game in which mobility is of the utmost importance, Arron is even more determined than ever to prove himself. He has a hard time seeing the good in other people, and is usually wary of most strangers.

History: Growing up in a relatively poor family from the heart of Saffron City, Arron was the son of a no-good dad who disappeared for long periods of time and a no-good mother who couldn’t do anything herself. The judgment of having such a worthless family fell hard on Arron, who reveled in praise and admiration. Rather than candy and toys, as a child, Arron wanted someone to pat him on the head and be impressed with him. But as soon as they found out who his mom was, who his dad was—all that admiration seemed to flush itself down the septic system and turn into the thing that Arron hated the most. He didn’t want anybody’s pity. So what if he cooked his own meals cause his ma would burn the house down if she tried doing it herself? So what if he had more siblings than he could count on both hands, with seemingly more coming? Not like he cared about any of them! Getting out and away from the house was Arron’s number one dream, realized when he caught a pokemon with a “borrowed” pokeball from the department store. Now most kids would go out with the blessings of their family, with some sort of destination in mind. Well, Arron didn’t need his family’s blessin’s, and he did have a destination in mind: Anywhere but here.

At first it was obviously not something well thought out, particularly with his first pokemon being a Hitmonlee, there wasn’t really much the pokemon could do in the way of helping out his trainer. Surviving off of Pokemon Centers and doing odd jobs, the trick to living on his own was something Arron caught onto quickly, if only for the sake of survival. He occasionally travelled with others, but ultimately couldn’t find a place for himself in groups, or ended up storming away from a travelling partner in a flurry of an argument, usually over something petty. Still, it was better than being stuck at home, where people judged him before they even saw what he could do. And so life continued, relatively peacefully. He caught pokemon like any other trainer, battled other trainers upon sight like most hot-headed kids his age, and toyed with the idea of going back around with a different goal: Challenging the gyms to earn the right to really, really prove himself by defeating the Elite Four. Life was indeed so carefree that Arron could entertain such amusing ideas-- until one day, he was found dead on Route 24.

Psyche: Arron’s wheelchair is capable of functioning both as a normal, manual push wheelchair, and as a psyche-based weapon. While out of battle, Arron prefers working with the wheelchair as a normal object to conserve his energy, however the wheelchair itself can propel and bash enemy noise with the combined weight of the seat and Arron—and the wheels may spin to add a little extra burn to the impact. The incorporation of a psyche in the form of his wheelchair is primarily in order to reduce the disadvantage Arron’s entry price leaves him at compared to other players.

Short Interview:

Spoiler:

For you, what was your death like? Was it justified? That's if you remember it, of course.

What kinda question is that? Can’t believe you’d just straight up ask me that like it’s all cool that I’m dead. Course it wasn’t justified, when is someone dyin’ ever justified? What has someone told you, “Oh yeah I definitely deserved to die, boy am I glad I kicked the bucket.” Tch. Anyway, if you gotta know, I got beaten up by some loser’s Golem- a snot faced rich kid’s. My team was gonna stomp his face into the ground, see, because he was just some spoiled brat who didn’t know anything about battling. Probably never bought a single meal with his own hard-earned money, by the looks ‘a him. So anyway, kid realizes I’ve got him totally beat, and mama’s boy wasn’t hot with that idea. He sends his golem after ME, and the fat lump sits his butt on my leg—now you tell me the last time your leg got body slammed by a golem and it came out in one piece. Well, so of course I’m pissed and I tell him that I’m not gonna wet my pants every time I lose, and that if I was him, I’d figure out that sitting at home on momma’s lap was the best place for me. Now his golem didn’t like that too much either, so the big guy rolls over onto my other leg, and body slam or not, Golem’s are pretty darn heavy. But Arron, y’say, two broken legs ain’t going to kill ya, right? Naw, two broken legs hurt like no other, but not anything that’d snuff me out. Naw, the stupid golem steps on my freakin’ head as it gets up. Now if that don’t kill ya at least within the next half hour, you got a head of steel, brotha.

There's a fork in the road, splitting off in several directions; a forest, a swamp, a dirt track, a city and a clear route. Which do you take?

Well depends on if you’re askin’ me when I was alive or not. If I was alive, I would definitely take the city. It’s nicer on the feet than any of the other options, really, and it’s like my home turf. But seein’ as I would sink to my second death in a swamp, couldn’t really negotiate anywhere in a forest with this lunk of meta under my butt, and a city is definitely not handicap friendly, I’d obviously take the clear route now that my legs are dead weight don’tcha think? Seeing as wheelchairs aren’t exactly fabulous transport in any of the other suggested areas.

What do you have to go back to? What are you fighting for? Why do you want to live? Why are you even here?

I-…. What the heck? Do I need to a reason to want to live? Nobody wants to die, and if they do then they should just get it over with themselves! Stop wastin’ the air, y’know what I mean?! But me? I’m not even halfway done with my life, and… I gotta go back and beat that kid’s face in! Not literally, like he did to me, but in a battle—or something, fair and square, y’know? Well, that’s assuming they haven’t locked him up for being a freaking murderer, but I got a lotta stuff I need to do in my life other than square it away with that creep anyway. I got friends, family, places to go and people to see… I have a future, unlike that frog-faced freak, and I’m fightin’ to get my legs workin’ to get that future back. I can’t exactly go wanderin’ around if I can’t feel my legs, ya know? As for why I’m here, I dunno, why don’t you ask those hooded weirdos?

Any last words before you start your week?
I’m gonna win this. No matter what it takes. Everyone else can pretty much just quit now, because I’m gonna be the winner.

Roleplay Sample: Fair warning this "latest" is pretty darned old. XDD

Spoiler:

Kim Jin Ah.

If there was a girl you didn’t want to cross, it was her. She was the worst kind of woman- the kind that could lie through their teeth like she was telling the truth, the kind that could tell you the cold, hard truth without even flinching, the kind that would kick you while you were down. Actually, kicking people while they were down was a lot more fun that people would think. God, all those righteous cows who thought that they were being nice by not putting someone down the first time. Jin Ah couldn’t stand them. And then the ones that backed down when they started something? Ugh, unforgivable! Storming into the mansion- no, correction. Storming into her mansion, Jin Ah let out a frustrated shriek, throwing her black leather Jimmy Choo handbag onto the freshly polished black marble floors. Not a single servant flinched- this temper tantrum had been a regular occurrence for quite some time now. Well, there was a very damned good reason for it! All the way from DAYCARE to when she transferred to this GOD forsaken school, she had been the best. She had been the girl that all the boys would practically drool over, while three other boys were busy wiping off the drool from her path, disinfecting the ground, and rolling out a red carpet- all for her. And now? Now what was she? THIS. This, this… BETA!! Jin Ah stamped her foot, encased in five inch high peeptoe ankle boots that barely revealed the perfect plum pedicure on her toes. Jin Ah always looked classy, even when she was throwing a fit. Dressed in a black boat-necked dress with a short banded hem, Jin Ah looked as if she had gone out clubbing. Which, thank you very much, she hadn’t, because that would be like, super lame. Who went clubbing out in broad daylight? Ugh, so not chic.

A butler approached after a few minutes, picking up her brand-name bag and dusting it off for her- despite the fact that there was no chance for dust on the floors of Jin Ah’s personal mansion. She snatched it from his hands, “Can you believe it?!” Jin Ah snapped at him, getting ready to ***** away at Yoo Mi, the girl whom she had unfortunately been forced to follow around like a- like a groupie ever since she’d transferred to this abysmal school. “I can’t believe it! Yoo Mi has NO backbone! Ugh, if it had been me, I would’ve started a catfight! Eun Bi is nothing! A twisted wrist is better than giving up! What a spineless woman! …. UUUUGH!” Jin Ah stamped across the foyer, ignoring the bows of the maids and butlers who stood at their posts as she continued to rant, “All that ***** did was grab that OTHER *****’s wrist! …Oh!” Jin Ah faked a distressed voice, putting the back of her hand against her forehead, “Forgive me Eun Bi ah! I’m such a wimpy FAKE that I can’t even handle it when someone twists my wrist a little! Oh, the pain!”

Another scream ripped through the house as Jin Ah threw her stilettos at the living room, a maid expertly catching it before it flew into the glass lamp and shattered it. A second maid caught the second flying stiletto before it crashed through the scenic window that gave Jin Ah a perfect view of the city lights when it was dark, and a perfect view of a dismal city during the day. What a view to cheer her up. Dirty, stinking Seoul. Why couldn’t she have been in London, or Los Angeles? Even New York would be better than this.

“How DARE she tell me to leave! As if she thinks I would stand to LOSE to Eun Bi! I can’t believe her. I would’ve used my free hand and taken my shoe and knocked the living DAYLIGHTS out of that uppity woman!” Jin Ah snarled, her eyes glistening as she glared at the five inch spikes on the shoes that a maid was currently holding in her hands. She took a deep breath, shaking her head before looking up towards the ceiling, but not yet craning all the way back. Taking a deep breath, Eun Bi held out both hands and began fanning herself, pressing her hands against her face here and there as she simpered, “Oh, if I get any angrier I’m going to give myself wrinkles!” Plopping down onto a plushy couch, the princess of the Kim Household crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms- a habit of hers that told everyone else to stay out of her life. “But don’t you agree Butler Park? You should train a dog the first time, not the second time. You’ll confuse the poor creature if you let it do something bad once. Best to teach it it’s lesson the first time!” Jin Ah heaved a sigh, “Yoo Mi obviously didn’t get proper training for being an Alpha. At least I didn’t have half of my groupies revolting behind my back.” A moment of silence throughout the house, completely devoid of residents other than the day servants, and at night, the night servants. And of course, Jin Ah herself. She felt compelled to talk, so she let out a chuckle, rolling her eyes at the memory of Eun Bi.

“But oh, how the great have fallen!” Jin Ah exclaimed with glee, flipping her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder and readjusting her black beret, “If you’d had SEEN Eun Bi, I’m sure even you would have laughed, Butler Park! Oh my god, she looks like a MESS without make-up! How terrible! I hope I don’t wind up looking like a thirty-year-old vegetable seller when I turn eighteen-“ Jin Ah paused, “Ah, no, not that it’s physically possible for someone like me to look like a vegetable seller, no matter what I’m wearing.” She opened her mouth to continue bashing out Eun Bi, but the sound of her ringtone, a very clear version of her favorite song by After School, interrupted the princess Jin Ah. There were two things in the world that Jin Ah allowed to interrupt her. Her cellphone, because the poor thing was probably about to deliver her something much worth hearing, and her father, because he paid for everything around her. Though of course, once it was paid for, it was hers, in her eyes. Holding out her perfectly freshly Minx manicured hand, she flipped open her clamshell Samsung, pressing the upper end to her ear whilst avoiding her dangly black zipper earrings.

(I'm cutting it short here because the rest is boring and unecessary unless you understood the actual RP itself.)

FANTASTIC!! Just a question before I accept you forreals; His loss of legs as an entry fee... that's symbolism for a loss of freedom, yeah? d: I don't think there was ever a 'why' that's his entry fee, but that's what I gathered from the SU. d:

I really do need to apologize. It's been a while, and this feels sort of clunky for some reason. If you need revisions I'll do them.

Name: Brad DumontAge: 22Gender: BoyEntry Fee:The memories of all past achievements, or any personal recognition either from himself or others. Basically no compliments or anything positive. Coupled with being able to receive or feel it.

Appearance: If one would have to say one sentence about Brad, it would be that he's what you could consider him the true form of athleticism. He stands rather tall, setting in around 6'2”. It's just that he's rather defined about how, well, that he's big. Don't take him for the biggest man that you've ever seen, because it's not completely so. Although he's broad shouldered, barrel-chested and pretty well defined. Just not one of the body builders that devotes all of their time to looking good. It's a balance that he finds 'doesn't make him look like a freak'. He has short, well maintained, spiked blonde hair. His eyes are a standard blue, and not completely striking as what you would find with folk of a similar colour. His nose isn't too big, and he likes to be clean shaven. It should be noted that he puts a lot into how his face looks.

In general, he likes to wear athletic clothing. Fortunately for the world, it's just your general T-shirt. Not too tight on his skin, it's just a general breathable fabric. White, although his seem to poke out a bit. It's never a huge deal though. You couple that with a pair of black shorts (usually under a pair of grey sweat pants.) and you have what he wears on an almost daily basis. The only other thing to note is the silver watch he wears on his wrist.

Personality: Brad is an interesting one. Something to note that he's usually a rather happy fellow. Not necessarily happy-go-lucky, just a guy who seems to enjoy life. One of the trademarks that people have seen over the years is his smile. Also, as many would expect with his athletic appearance is that he's rather loud and extroverted. He loves talking to people and hanging out with others. He loves friendship because of compliments and just, well it's a positive and redeeming thing to have with other people. So he tries his hardest to do well with everybody that he meets. He's a people pleaser. It's who he is and he's always been able to embrace that part about him.

This isn't to say that this makes him the best person. No, in his attempts to just be happy and please everyone he tends to be a little naive and idealistic. So it's easy for him not to see the true nature of things, and to be manipulated. Not that he will ever, ever admit it. Since he wants to do good, he acts rather rash and impulsively. Especially based on his emotions. This coupled in with the fact that he has a surprisingly short fuse, makes it so that it's hard to get any sort of rational or logical thinking. In which case he just acts far too much like a hero for his own good. Which also groups in with the fact that he's incredibly headstrong and stubborn. It's hard to get him to change his mind.

History: Brad, growing up was pretty normal. A small kid, pretty normal which made him blend into the crowd easily. It wasn't that he minded too much when he was little, in fact he rather sort of liked it. This of course changed when something else was brought into the picture, mainly the fact that his parents separated. This in turn brought in three more siblings from the new husband, and with them all being rather loud, opinionated kids, he needed to quickly change.

This turned into a self-proclaimed competition to gain the respect and love from his mother, and to make sure that the other kids didn't have it. When you're a little kid and going through tough times the adults figured that it was sort of acceptable. Besides, it's not like he had did anything incredibly harmful yet. Being the oldest though gave him a disadvantage, since they would rely on him to at least attempt to be the pillar to bring both families together. It means that they expected him to grow up and help take care of the family too. He was hesitant, but in the end there really wasn't any other option. And in his early teenage years he ended up being a lot more nurturing towards his little siblings.

It was also in his teenage years where he did a lot of growing up and becoming the person that he is today. Although he didn't have a huge peer group, the people who he did hang out with respected him for who he was. Who they discovered was a pretty nice guy, despite his large size. It became a running joke and he put in just enough effort to maintain his body without going overboard. Addiction to the gym he found was actually a serious thing, so he would have to monitor his activity. Running was his main form of exercise, although he did hit the weights too, from time to time.

Eventually it was time to start his own personal journey. He needed to discover some things, and travelling around Kanto seemed to be the easy way to get through it all. Although he just wanted to travel with pokemon, he ended up deciding to challenge a few gyms on the way. What could it hurt? It was a shame that he never really got the opportunity.

Psyche: Pins.

Short Interview:

Spoiler:

For you, what was your death like? Was it justified? That's if you remember it, of course.

It was stupid. The lifeguards didn't even put up the notice, and everyone else was swimming. Why didn't anybody notice them coming!? I never had a chance, there were too many of them. Damn Tentacruel!

There's a fork in the road, splitting off in several directions; a forest, a swamp, a dirt track, a city and a clear route. Which do you take?

I've spent enough time in the city. Swamps and Forests are pretty hard to travel though, and the dirt road can get annoying. I'll take the clear route.

What do you have to go back to? What are you fighting for? Why do you want to live? Why are you even here?

I'm here because I'm dead. I'm still young, I need to finish my journey and I need to get back home and make sure my family turns out alright.

Any last words before you start your week?

I'm gonna win. I'll try my hardest. No matter what I have to do.

Roleplay Sample:

This is uh. A while ago. It's been a long while, ok? A few years old actually.

Spoiler:

Most people would find it suitable for a capital city of a country to be full of the hustle and bustle of evryday life. However Cliff had a diffrent story on his mind, he much preffered the desolation and sublety of the current state of affairs. The man was almost completely alone in the streets, everybody else had already flooded to the ten arenas. Naturally he was here for the tournament. So that was his next destination. He walked up to where most of the competitors were standing. Unlike most of the competitors who were either extremely scared or excited Cliff kept a natural composure. He even grinned at the thought of all the competitors he would be facing against, all of the losers and all of those that would be left dead.

“All right settle down the lot of ya!” Yelled the official, he was obviously in the royal guard. His armor beared the symbol of Aselia and Sylvarant. His poleax looked to be army mandated, as he used it to direct the traffic of fighters into the stadium.

“Remember, the king said last one standing wins.” He yelled in as he shut the doors of the stadium. Cliff took this moment to look around the stadium, at first he noticed the huge amount of spectators who were ready to watch the fight. They ranged from the elderly to the little kids all who wanted to see who was the best of the hundred in the stadium. With that thought he decided to look at all the other competitors, it was almost like an analyzation. Most of the competitors were well msculed men holding gigantic swords, although there were the few mages and elven competitors. Everybody was just standing around, and this was making the crowd grow restless.

“Fight!, Fight!” They chanted with impatience. Ciff grinned. Why not give the crowd what they want? He thought. He covered his mouth so it would look like he was readjusting his mask, a simple tactic however, it hided the fact that he was preparing an incantation for a wind arte. His eyes conveyed the scene until he picked his target. He slowly lowered his hand from his mouth.

“Gale!” Cliff shouted. He thrusted his hand with an open palm. A slice of wind started to charge up and then ripped through the stadium. Although the gale didn't have a specific target it hit a young man. This young man had a fairly petit figure with no armor, he flew across the stadium hitting the wall which knocked him out. Every competitor then stared at the knocked out man, then at Cliff. In a fury of spells and sword clashing chaos happened.

The fighting was perilous and very tiring. Bodies, dead or knocked out were sprawled on the floor or in the middle of being “escorted” out of the stadium. At this moment only three people were left. Cliff wasn't fighting infact he was watching the other two competitors fight. The battle was between an older man who was carrying a huge lance with another younger man with a sword. It took one more swing, the lance hit the competitor on the chest and he immediately collasped. Immediately two guards removed him from the scene.

The crowd started to go crazy in a frenzy of sheering. The two men started to circle eatchother, the other man had a huge size advantage over Cliff and he decided to get extremely cocky.

“Give it up now boy! Before it's too late.” He said with a laugh. Cliff gave him s silent smile.

“Ok then smartass here it comes!” He swung his huge lance over towards Cliff. The masked man quickly jumped onto the lance, using it as a platform. This made the other made the other man extremely surprised and made the crowd go into a standstill. Although the man had huge amounts of armor on there was one weak point, his neck. Cliff quickly leaped towards the man's neck and gave it a deep stab. After he jumped off, the man fell over.

The crowd cheered even louder then before. A guard walked up to Cliff.

“The King wants an audience with you. Please follow me.” Cliff simply nodded as the two left the stadium.

__________________

testimonials:

Quote:

you are a despicable piece of ♥♥♥♥ that doesn't belong in the D&D section.

FANTASTIC!! Just a question before I accept you forreals; His loss of legs as an entry fee... that's symbolism for a loss of freedom, yeah? d: I don't think there was ever a 'why' that's his entry fee, but that's what I gathered from the SU. d:

Oh sorry, yes it was. XD I forgot to note that. I'll add that in when I get home.

Basically the loss of his legs represents that he can't continue his journey aka escape from his dreaded family. And he is, in a sense "trapped" again in immobility, like how he couldn't escape his family's reputation.

Just a few things; can you define why his entry fee is his entry fee and you missed the psyche part. XD

Other than that, it's great! I agree a little lacking in a certain flair or "clunky" as you said, but great!

Quote originally posted by Loki:

Oh sorry, yes it was. XD I forgot to note that. I'll add that in when I get home.

Basically the loss of his legs represents that he can't continue his journey aka escape from his dreaded family. And he is, in a sense "trapped" again in immobility, like how he couldn't escape his family's reputation.

Oh, see what I was trying to work with is Brad is a being that loves to have as much positive reinforcement as he can. He loves giving it to people, he loves receiving it, he's sort of motivated and goal orientated in that respect. A creature that sort of thrives off, and being emotionally thinking and sort of silly as he is, it affects a part of him in that way. Although he's still the same and happy go lucky, it'll just be a bit harder for him to tackle some situations.

If that needs to be edited in just tell me.

And pins. lol oops I'll just edit that in there.

__________________

testimonials:

Quote:

you are a despicable piece of ♥♥♥♥ that doesn't belong in the D&D section.

Sweeeeet. Thank you! Okay, I'll accept you too as soon as I get to a PC. My brother's doing an assignment and I have to go play at a concert but I'll see about kicking brother off when I get back! <:

We really need more people... Hmm...

EDIT: Well I FINALLY get the computer back after my brother has been assignmenting the past few days.

Arron Hale is accepted!
He will receive four pins and one special item on arrival;

Arron's Wheelchair - Arron's only form of transport. Though his legs are restricted, he can still get to an impressive speed on this fine piece of machinery.000 The Player Pin - Proof that you are a player in the Reaper's Game. Pressing it lets you hear the thought fragments of those around you in the RG.016 Pidgey - The Tiny Bird Monster. Using this pin blinds the enemies around you with a small dust cloud.113 Chansey - The Egg Monster. Using this pin heals half of yours and your partner's health. Can only be used once per battle.479 Rotom - The Plasma Monster. Allows you to use Psychokinesis to take control of or possess inanimate objects.

... though for Arron, the Rotom pin only seems to work for his wheelchair. How odd!

Brad Dumont is accepted!
He will receive 5 pins on arrival;

000 The Player Pin - Proof that you are a player in the Reaper's Game. Pressing it lets you hear the thought fragments of those around you in the RG.021 Spearow - The Tiny Bird Monster. Using this pin raises your strength and determination in a pinch.050 Diglett - The Mole Monster. Using this pin allows you to burrow underground.052 Meowth - The Scratch Cat Monster. Using this pin lets you attack your enemies with vicious claws, also causing them to drop a small amount of money pins on impact.100 Voltorb - The Ball Monster. Using this pin paralyses your enemies on contact.

Name: Jessica StarkAge: ≈17Gender: girlEntry Fee: Her "happy" memories, specificallyAppearance: (Picture) Jessica is a caucasian female standing at approximately 5'6'' (1.67 meters) and weighing approximately 140 pounds. She sports an athletic body build and is in overall good physical condition. She sports green eyes and brown hair. Her hair is naturally wavy, but is usually somewhat messy. Jessica usually puts her hair up in a slightly messy ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. As for clothes, she can usually be found wearing low-cut blue skinny jeans, a light pink tied t-shirt over a cropped white sleeveless shirt, black hiking boots, black fingerless gloves, and a pink cap with a blank white face. She often carries around a satchel, but other than what is in said satchel does not usually keep much on her.

Personality: Jessica is a pretty relaxed person. She just lays back and takes life as it comes, keeping things simple. She unfortunately did not get the benefit of a formal education. Thus, she has a somewhat uneducated view of the world. Despite this, she is generally pleasant to be around, as she has a pretty big heart so to speak, but can become intolerantly dismissive when argued with at times. She also doesn't see the benefit of an education. Luckily, she is not overly prone to become offended at teasing, and is more likely to ignore someone or walk away when she knows she is being teased. She seems to be a natural tomboy, not obsessing over stupid things like hating pink but rather simply sometimes demonstrating a disregard for femininity.

History: Jessica was born and raised in Unova, on a modest ranch near Lacunosa Town to be precise. She was an only child, and while her father had been hoping for a boy he learned to become proud of his tomboy daughter. Thus, the two got along pretty well. Up until around ten years old she helped her parents around the ranch. At the age of ten she decided she wanted to become a trainer and go explore the world. A part of the reason for her dreams was the fact that she had simply been confined to the ranch for so long. Jessica spent most of her time as a trainer traveling and exploring the world to the best of her abilities. She was a pretty decent battler that enjoyed the sights and meeting new people more than anything else. Fairly early on in her adventuring she made the decision to travel to Kanto. While this required quite some help from her parents she managed to get what she wanted. The reason for this decision was that she wanted to catch specific pokemon native to Kanto and Johto in addition to the fact that she wanted to explore a foreign region. That being said, although Kanto was her first destination she did in fact travel to Johto. Yet, she found that she enjoyed Kanto a bit better. Thus, after she was done collecting pokemon she set herself specifically to Kanto. She never really figured out what she wanted to do with her life long term however, though she felt at times that she wished to start her own pokemon ranch like her parents before her. Regardless, she never got to find out, as during her travels she became the victim of a fatal wild pokemon attack after she had failed to take precautions whilst traveling after losing a battle against another trainer. Her death was not exactly pleasant, and the fact that it was far from a happy memory means that it did leave some trauma on her. The things she valued most were probably her family and her pokemon, things that were already taken from her the moment she died. The next thing that came along was her happy memories. Most all memories on the lighter side of the scale were taken as her entree fee.

Psyche: (Something else. Will PM with details immediately after posting.)

Short Interview:

Spoiler:

For you, what was your death like? Was it justified? That's if you remember it, of course.

Jessica would become visibly uncomfortable when asked the question. It was quite plainly not a pleasant memory for her. Then again, whose deaths were? "Well... I honestly don't really wanna talk about it much... If ya' must know though, I encountered m'self a wild Victreebel." This was of course tragic as Victreebel in the wild were not all that common. Their more common pre-evolution Weepinbel was more common and less prone to considering humans potential prey. "My pokemon hadn't recovered from a battle I'd just had and I guess it--" She stopped herself, her mouth sort of quivered a bit as she did so. She was clearly very uncomfortable with the conversation. "...W-Well, if ya' don't mind I'd rather just skip over the exact details..." Her gaze then turned down, hiding her eyes behind the brim of her hat. When she spoke next, she gained a false smile. "Long story short. I guess it killed me..."

There's a fork in the road, splitting off in several directions; a forest, a swamp, a dirt track, a city and a clear route. Which do you take?

Jessica seemed to think about it for a moment. "Well, I guess that'd depen' on whether I'd ever been to the city before! If I hadn't I guess I'd go there. Otherwise, I-I think I'd prefer the clear route or the dirt track, personally. Might flip a coin." One might be able to deduce that the scene of her death might be related to her avoiding the forest. Whereas swamplands were simply the most dangerous area, easily. She didn't seem to mind which of the other routes she could take.

What do you have to go back to? What are you fighting for? Why do you want to live? Why are you even here?

Jessica seemed to become mildly flustered by the question, as if it embarrassed her. "W-Well... If ya' ask me I went pretty early..." Jessica's expression took on a thoughtful appearance. "On the other hand I can't seem to remember being all that happy anyway. ...I don't think I was ready to die, though!" Considering she had lost all her happy memories, leaving only bad or neutral ones, it would be evident that Jessica had a very strong natural urge to survive.

Any last words before you start your week?

Jessica seemed confused by the qestion. To her, it seemed rather out of place. It almost seemed ominous in nature. She decided not to worry about it too much. "Well, ah... Wish me luck?" She looked up, a slightly perplexed expression remaining on her face.

Roleplay Sample:

Spoiler:

Jessica Stark strolled along through the forest, a rather blank look on her face. Normally she was a great fan of the outdoors, and of exploring, but something about this place unnerved her. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. Never-the-less, she had decided to come on through. She walked alone, or so it seemed. She had on a belt containing several pokeballs. After some time walking, she began to wonder exactly how large this forest was. That is, until she spotted another figure coming around a bend not far in the distance. Up until then the trees had obscured each other from sight, but now they were only a handful of meters away. Perhaps it was the prolonged silence, but she felt compelled to approach, if not but to say hi. She of course would wait to actually speak until she got closer, though her eyes had moved to meet his, acknowledging him.

The man noticed her in turn, looking her over. He seemed to become slightly visually disappointed when he looked down and saw pokeballs hanging on a belt around her hip. (The mentioned belt is not part of her attire in this roleplay.) He had been walking with a Houndoom at his side. Said Houndoom began to growl as he drew near to the girl, not particularly comfortable around the stranger.

Unknown male: "Hello."

Jessica Stark slowed to a stop a just out of arm's reach, raising one hand to wave to the man. In the presence of another she had become cheery again and was smiling to show it.

Jessica: "Evenin'!"

She spoke pretty casually, and seemed to have a rather noticeable southern dialect. She didn't seem to mind the growling Houndoom all that much. If she did, she didn't show it. After a moment she went on to speak up again.

"Aren't these woods just eerie?"

She sought reassurance of her feelings regarding the forest's presence; not because she was having difficulty telling for herself, but simply because she was happy to have someone to talk to. As nice as her pokemon were, she simply couldn't have a conversation with them!

Can I have a written Appearance? XD Also, i need you to develop a little more on this history. Where was she born? Where was she raised, if it was not somewhere different? What age did she start her journey? Does she have any brothers or sisters? etc etc etc. develop your character a whole lot more! <:

And with your RP sample, you don't have to define someone before they talk with the "Jessica:" XD

I see, but there's no need. XD I'm sure we can all determine who's saying what. <:

Anyways...

Jessica Stark is accepted!
She will receive 3 pins and 2 special items on arrival;

Fighting Gloves - A simple pair of fighting gloves. They do seem to pack quite a punch!Fighting Boots - A simple pair of fighting boots. Wearing them gives you quite a kick!000 The Player Pin - Proof that you are a player in the Reaper's Game. Pressing it lets you hear the thought fragments of those around you in the RG.113 Chansey - The Egg Monster. Using this pin heals half of yours and your partner's health. Can only be used once per battle.619 Mienfoo - The Martial Arts Monster. Using this pin increases your strength and gives you the knowledge for basic martial arts skills.

... though for Jessica, the Mienfoo pin only seems to work for her gloves and boots. How odd!

Ohhh, well! I was hoping to have 4 or 5 teams so if tornzero and deepimpact finish their SUs and everyone else is active, we can start! I might repost an advertisement in the roleplay discussion and ask deep impact and tornzero if they are still interested. By the way, I'll get on to making more pins and adding Jessica to the list when I get to a PC.

I'm here, but ironically, I came to this thread to say that I won't be here. XDD

College starts for me on Friday, and seeing as this is my Freshman year, I'll be quite busy with various things like moving in and er, finding my way around. And making friends, I suppose ohohoho~

But yes, seeing as this is really the only RP I'm in, it shouldn't be a problem at all in terms of how long it takes me to post/read posts, but for a few days-- say, maybe the next four or five days-- I may not really be around.

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